


Desires

by Havokftw



Series: I used to be indecisive, now I'm not sure. [5]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alpha Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Awkward Conversations, Breeding, Breeding Kink, Claiming Bites, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Verse, Scenting, Soft Alpha Seungcheol, Unwanted Sexual Advances, fertile omega, scowling Jihoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11962686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havokftw/pseuds/Havokftw
Summary: Well—that is definitely one of Jihoon’s top ten most embarrassing moments. Unsurprisingly, the other nine moments also include Seungcheol in one way or another.What an amazingly bad way to introduce yourself to your boyfriend’s father.Part 5 of the Jicheol ABO series: Jihoon goes into heat early...when Seungcheol is out of town.Set after 'Hunger' in the series.





	Desires

When Seungcheol was in junior school, his school report arrived in the post and his parents sat him down at the kitchen table.

B for Language. _Acceptable_.

D for Mathematics. _Not so good._

A* for P.E. _That’s more like it._

Overall, not the best grades, room for improvement blah, blah. But in the summary there was a note from his form teacher:

 _‘Seungcheol is a sweet boy, and gets along with everyone in his class.’_ His mother had read aloud.

His father patted him on the head and they both told them how proud they were of him, before sending him outside to play.

The following semester—his parents moved him to another school.

Which was a shame, he rather enjoyed that school and had made numerous friends, but didn’t think anything of it at the time.

It was only several years later when he was helping his father clear the attic, did he stumble across the very same school report.

Reading it to himself, he realised how his parents had omitted specific sections of it.

_‘Seungcheol is a sweet boy, and gets along with everyone in his class. I am however concerned with his attitude towards the Omega’s in his class. Despite my attempts to segregate him from them, he insists on playing with them! He shares all his toys and snacks and even puts himself between them and the other Alpha’s. I don’t know what you’re teaching him at home, but it’s frankly, unbecoming behaviour for a boy of his status.’_

_Huh_ —Seungcheol had thought, then dumped the report in the trash.

Lovely, isn’t it, when privilege catches you coming and going.

As a child, he wanted for nothing, and both his parents took obvious care to remind him at every turn that they loved him. Despite that, he’d always felt like a fish swimming upstream when he compared himself to other Alpha’s, but he did learn how to be okay with that.

He’s grateful that his parents ignored that report. Had chosen to move him to an open-minded school and shielded him from that kind of criticism and negativity. They say that your status is the determining factor in your personality traits, but Seungcheol’s sure his parents are what helped shape him into the Alpha he is now.

* * *

 

Jihoon wakes up on fire.

Not literally, of course, but the blood coursing through his veins is  _boiling_  him from within, and the stifling heat and humidity of the cramped dorm room makes it hard to  _breathe._

 _Also,_ Jun smells awful and Jihoon’s mouth is dry beyond measure and his pyjamas are soaked through with sweat. 

_Eugh!_

He yanks the covers down his chest, rolling over and spreading his limbs to search for a cool spot on the sheets, even though there are none to be found. He shoves his face into his pillow and groans. When he turns over again, it’s still dark, and the display on his alarm clock—he has to blink until the numbers clarify—reads 6:34 AM.

“Junhui, switch the air con on.” He grumbles.

“The air con _is_ on Jihoon.” Jun says from his side of the room.

Jihoon stares longingly at the temperature controls near the window, at the far end of his bed. “Turn it up higher.”

“It’s on the highest setting.” Jun answer. He sounds a lot more awake—and a lot _colder_ too with how his teeth are chattering.

Jihoon glances at the bed across the room. The only visible part of his roommate is his face, he’s huddled underneath his comforter in a tiny ball.

_Drama queen._

“Open a window.”

“Jihoon, I don’t know what to tell you, but you opened the window during the night. I don’t understand how you can be warm—it’s freezing in here.”

Jihoon has the top few buttons of his pyjamas unhooked before his hand stills, and his eyelids roll open like shutters as he becomes aware of where he is, of what’s happening, and of why it feels like he’s in a sauna. His stomach flips.

“You don’t look so good Jihoonie,” Jun says, frowning as he stands over him. “You smell a bit off, you’re not--”

“No,” Jihoon snaps, sitting up in the bed and ignoring the lurch of dizziness. “Just feel a bit... sick. Is all.”

It’s not entirely a lie. He moves to throw the covers off to cool himself—but stops when he registers the damp slick between his thighs.

He’s not in heat, not yet, even though he can feel his body edging closer to that squirming need entirely without his say-so. All the signs indicate that it's going to be heavier than usual.

The thing is—he shouldn’t be in heat.

He has a strict regimen of suppressor medication that ensures his heat cycles happen every two months instead of one. His last heat had been a month ago, so it’s definitely way too early.  _Unless_ ….

His doctor _had_ warned him that his heat cycles would shift when he reached complete fertility.

“Oh crap.” Unexpected shit like this just happens to him at the best of times, when Seungcheol is out of town.  

“What’s wrong?” Jun asks.

Jihoon’s mouth tightens. “I’m going into heat.”

“Oh—damn, that’s not good.” Jun says, patting him congenially on the arm, but then stops like he thinks it might send Jihoon into an unyielding fit of lust. He retracts his hands and puts them in his pockets. “Uhm—do you want me to— _leave_?”

“Just for a bit, while I change and pack. I can’t stay here. This place reeks of you—it’s terrible.”

Jun graces him with a sour look. “Geez thanks.”

“Sorry, just the heat talking.” Jihoon murmurs, reaching for his cell phone.

“So, where are you going to go?”

“Seungcheol’s.” Jihoon says simply.

“Seungcheol’s?” Jun repeats, looking puzzled for a second, and then. “ _Ohhhhh_. Wow, so—you guys are— _woah_. I see—huh. Well, congratulations? I guess? How long have--”

Jihoon rolls his eyes at Jun’s lame attempt at non-awkward conversation, waving an impatient hand to cut him off. “Don’t pretend like you all haven’t placed bets on it happening.”

Jun looks ready to protest, but instead his shoulders slump in defeat. “True. I owe Minghao fifty bucks.”

* * *

 

“Hey Hoonie, what’s up?” Cheol answers immediately on the first ring, before Jihoon has actually worked out what he plans to say, leaving him to stammer through the greeting.

“Uhm—Hi Cheollie—I—uhm.” He can’t ignore the warm fluttery feeling he gets knowing Seungcheol has his number prioritised on his phone, that he’s practically and Jihoon’s beck and call if he so desired.

“Cheol. Where are you?”

“I’m at the station.”

“Oh good, you haven’t left yet.” Jihoon sighs, hating how his voice comes out small and almost  _hopeful._

“No, I’m at Daegu station—we’re just driving out now.” The change is Seungcheol’s voice is subtle. Careful. “Something wrong?”

Jihoon feels a sense of desperation settle in. He’s going to have to take care of this himself. “Oh. No—everything’s okay—have a nice time.”

“Woah—woah—wait.” Jihoon can practically  _hear_  Seungcheol’s puppy-like befuddlement. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I’ll see you when you get back.”

“ _Jihoon_.” Seungcheol intones, of course he isn’t going to let it drop.

Jihoon sighs, suddenly feeling incredibly unsure about this. “I’m going into heat. I know I’m really early, but I’ve just woke up and my sheets are soaked and I can’t stop thinking about how good your dick feels inside me and how I want you to use my ass like a cum dumpster. Fuck me and knot me and fill me, use me every way you like.” Jihoon rambles, words tumbling out of his mouth, brain-to-mouth filter not exactly engaged in heat.

Seungcheol is quiet on the other end.

It's quite possible that Jihoon’s sex desperate speech has stunned him to silence. If so, Jihoon counts it as a victory. The only time before this that he stunned Seungcheol to silence was when he said there was no more ramen left.

“Jihoon—I” There's a beeping sound, like Seungcheol is button mashing his cell phone. And there’s a buzz of noise and activity in the background that Jihoon picks up on.

“Oh my god—am I on _loudspeaker_?” Jihoon gasps.

On the other end of the line, the silence grows to nearly overwhelming proportions before Seungcheol deigns to break it, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Yeah— _sorry.”_ He murmurs sheepishly.

“Hello Jihoon!” somebody’s voice chirps.

“That’s my dad.” Seungcheol explains.

The breath steals from Jihoon’s lungs. “Oh god!”

He can't hang up quickly enough.

* * *

 

Seungcheol clears his throat awkwardly. “So, uhmm—that was Jihoon.”

“Feisty thing.” His dad concludes with the slightest tinge of humour.

Seungcheol dips his head and smiles despite himself. “Yeah, he is.”

“Well—you better turn this car around and head back. Don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Seungcheol flicks the indicator to turn off at the next junction. “Thanks dad.” he says around the knot in his throat.

 From the corner of his eye, Seungcheol spots his father’s wry smile.

“You should bring him next time you come home. You talk about him so much and your mother and I would love to meet him.”

“Sure, I’ll ask him.” Seungcheol says with an affable shrug.

“ _Good_.” His father drawls.

Seungcheol sighs at that familiar scheming expression on his fathers face. He’ll be telling his mother next, then his older brother, then his aunts and grandparents and then buying a suit for the wedding and advising Seungcheol on where to buy their first property so that Seungcheol’s parents can be close by to help raise the babies….

Oh fuck. Jihoon’s going to kill him.

* * *

 

Well—that is _definitely_ one of Jihoon’s top ten most embarrassing moments. Unsurprisingly, the other nine moments also include Seungcheol in one way or another.

What an amazingly bad way to introduce yourself to your boyfriend’s father. From what Seungcheol’s told him, his parents sound pretty nice.

Of course, that was _before_ Jihoon asked Seungcheol to unload his cum inside him while his father was in earshot.

 _Yeah_. This is embarrassing, but Jihoon’s a little too distracted by the throbbing in his groin to spare the effort just now. He'll quietly fret about it later.

When his phone buzzes, Jihoon answers it before it’s through it’s first ring.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was driving and my hands were full and he answered for me. Please don’t be mad.” Seungcheol says quickly without preamble.

Jihoon sighs into the phone, impatient. “I’m not mad Seungcheol. I’m too horny to be embarrassed. I’ll probably me embarrassed later. Also, I’m mad at you even though I just said I wasn’t. But I’m allowed to be contrary because I’m in heat and my hormones are all over the place.”

Seungcheol chuckles quietly in return. “That _was_ a unique and graphic choice of phrasing. If my dad hadn’t been sitting next to me—I would have busted a nut. You’re such a little slut for my dick, huh?”

Jihoon flushes pink. Pink— _er._

Usually a comment like that would earn Seungcheol some serious scowling, but Jihoon can’t exactly scowl down the phone at him (he has tried before)—and since he’s in heat, every rumble of Seungcheol’s voice spreads over his skin and makes him tremble. He moans, squirming on the bed, pushing his thighs together.

“Jihoonie,” Seungcheol purrs, “I can practically hear how wet you’re getting just from the sound of my voice. You want me inside you now baby? Filling you up?” Seungcheol says, voice pitched low, and  _fuck,_ Jihoon has never been this far  _gone_  over somebody’s voice in his  _life,_  and Seungcheol’s barely even said five whole sentences to him.

“Hnn—yes. Love your voice. I’m so wet Cheollie.” He admits without a hint of shame. Stupid fucking heat.

It’s good thing that the room is empty, because if Jun overheard his desperate conversation – that’s too much mortification for one day. Jihoon’s daily quota has been met, thank you very much.

“I’m on my way, so I’ll see you-“

Jihoon bolts upright in bed before the sentence is even completed, “What? No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll use a toy or something.” Jihoon hastens to assure him. “Don’t come back just for this.”

“Jihoon, I’m already on the train.” Seungcheol’s voice is calm and solid, cutting through Jihoon’s bullshit.

Jihoon bites down hard on his bottom lip, because this is  _wrong,_  this is  _taking advantage,_  this is so, so unfair to Seungcheol. “But—you had a whole weekend thingy planned with your parents.” He practically sobs.

“Yeah, but this is more important. Besides, after you little cum dumpster speech, my dad made me turn the car around and bought me my ticket back. My mum even sent me a message telling me to have a ‘swell time’.”

Jihoon chokes, actually chokes on the shock. “Why are your parents so weird?”

Seungcheol laughs. “I dunno—I guess they’re just really happy for me.” He says, and Jihoon can hear the smile in his voice.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Go to my place, yeah? Get comfortable. Mingyu’s away for the weekend too.”

“Okay.” Jihoon sighs, patting the sweat on his brow.

* * *

 

Seungcheol had given Jihoon a spare key to his apartment around his second heat. It just made more sense to have it there, with the privacy and space it provided.

Jihoon's fresh out of a shower and already his skin is drying with the heat emanating from his body. His hair is still wet and he's in his underwear, in his black silk boxers that hang low on his hips. Seungcheol has never seen these boxers before. He suspects he'd like them.

The flannel of Seungcheol’s shirt is comfortingly soft when he picks it up. Jihoon looks at it like it might be dangerous for a long moment before sniffing at it deliberately. Coffee, aftershave, laundry detergent and a little light sweat, but it’s the overlying scent of strong, unmated Alpha that goes straight to his cock.

He slips the shirt on and buttons it up, sighing blissfully as Seungcheol’s scent drowns out the sharp edge of need, dragging Jihoon up from the haze enough to get a tenuous grip on his own body.

Jihoon lies face down on the bed and thinks about Seungcheol. It's easy when the sheets smell of the Alpha and it's something he does most of his spare time anyway. He thinks about Seungcheol working out, his muscles flexing as he lifts the weights above his head and then brings them back down, seemingly without effort. He thinks about Seungcheol’s fingers reaching out for him, trailing along the dip of Jihoon's back. He thinks about Seungcheol naked, leaning over him a rubbing the head of his cock between his cheeks, teasing him. 

Jihoon realizes that he's pressing his hips against the mattress.

It feels ridiculously good.

His hair is sticking against his cheek, spiky, and a cool front is blowing through the ventilation. Jihoon feels over-sensitized and a bit out of control. He pushes his hips back into the mattress, experimentally, and when he feels the rush that travels through his balls and up his spine, he decides there's no use waiting, Seungcheol will catch up when he gets here.

He starts thrusting against the mattress more readily now, his hands splayed on the side for balance, his face pressed to the pillow. His mouth is open, and he can hear the uneven tenor of his own breath. He feels weak with want, and his wrists tremble as he slides his cock against his boxers, feeling the sleek pressure of it.

He wishes it was more.

He wishes it was Seungcheol' hand, which would feel so hot and strong. But the mattress is all Jihoon has right now, and he works himself against it with little unrepentant gasps, and it's only when he hears the front door swing open and the sound of keys being tossed on the table, that he slows his hips. Comes to a complete stop.

Jihoon pants against the pillow, sweat glistening his cheekbones, bringing himself down.

He slides of the bed and leaves the room, surprised that Seungcheol returned so quickly.

“Cheol?” Jihoon calls out, padding down the corridor. He turns the corner and walks right into _Mingyu_.

“Jihoon?” Mingyu startles, stepping back. His fingers brush Jihoon’s arm, and Jihoon shivers before he can bury the reaction. “Hey—what are doing here?”

Jihoon rubs a hand against the damp sweat at the back of his neck, shifting his weight to his other foot. “Cheol said I could come here—he said you were away home for the weekend.” He mumbles.

“I missed my, uhm” Mingyu falters, sniffing the air, turning his head slightly “—my train.”

At this point, Mingyu seems to have twigged and his eyes grow dark. His nostrils flare, and he moves closer, as if magnetically pulled. Jihoon can smell when his scent becomes muskier and even more noticeable with his arousal.

Without having to look, Jihoon knows what he’s thinking and he takes a cautious step backwards, feeling a weird fluttering of nerves.

“I’ll go wait for Cheol in his room.” Jihoon says, stepping away and steadfastly avoiding Mingyu’s face.

“Wait—“ Mingyu says, gripping his arm and yanking him back. Stunned, Jihoon can only gape at him.

In a flash Mingyu ducks his head into the bend of Jihoon’s neck and inhales.

Jihoon tenses, long-smothered instincts prickling up his spine and down to his palms. Every single one kicking in and screaming  _run run run_.

“Did you just smell me?” He seethes.

It’s nothing, the barest hint of a sniff, but Jihoon’s no stranger to having people try to smell him, and it only ever leads to one thing.

“Why wait for Cheol.” Mingyu says in reply, and it isn’t a question.

Jihoon blinks, momentarily distracted by the firm pressure of Mingyu’s fingers against the sensitive scent point over his pulse. He frowns and ignores the sick lurch in his gut. “Because—I’m in heat and he helps me out. Because he’s my _boyfriend_.” He says, trying to shake Mingyu’s grip off.

Mingyu’s hand tightens painfully, and Jihoon yelps.

Their eyes meet, and even with the palpable warmth in his gaze, it’s impossible to imagine a giant softie like Mingyu losing control and hurting him. But—he _is_ an Alpha, and Jihoon is keenly reminded of his first heat, and all the piercing looks he got from other Alpha’s in his vicinity.

“You don’t have to wait. A guy like you shouldn’t be made to wait.” He says the last in a breathy growl, practically purring the words into Jihoon’s ear.

And wow, Mingyu’s sudden change in demeanour is totally going to give Jihoon whiplash.

“Mingu,” Jihoon tries not to squeak. This, he thinks, is how butterflies feel before they’re pinned to a card, framed, and hung on a wall. “What are you--?” he sputters. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu looks at him, still smiling faintly. “I can make you feel good Jihoon. I can take care of your heat. Give me a chance.”

Jihoon’s too busy staring in unmasked disbelief to actually respond to that, because there are  _levels_  of stupid and this bests them all.

But when Mingyu starts crowding him against the wall, his intentions are clear as glass and Jihoon reacts instinctively, trying to push him away.

“No, Mingyu—Let me go. I’m not interested.”

Jihoon tries to pry Mingyu’s fingers off with force. He can’t stand the thought of another Alpha being near him during a heat, let alone slake it. But Mingyu is like a shrewd stray dog with a meaty bone once he’s set his focus on something, and dragging out this conversation is the last thing Jihoon wants to do right now.

“Mingyu—I won’t hesitate to hurt you if you don’t let me go.” He warns.

Mingyu tilts his head, subtly predatory. “Don’t be like that. What’s Cheol got that I haven’t?”

Jihoon can’t help the raw laugh that escapes him. “Self-restraint. Decorum. Empathy? He’s my boyfriend. There’s a long fucking list, now get off me!”

Mingyu backs him up to the far wall, arms at either side of his head, caging him in.

 _Oh shit,_  Jihoon thinks as the heat of Mingyu’s body makes itself known in a long, hard line against him,  _Alpha pheromones._

“Shhh—I may not be your boyfriend, but I have all those things. I’ll take care of you.” He purrs. His hands go to Jihoon’s sides, fingers dancing across his skin.

Jihoon gasps when his hands wander underneath his shirt.

* * *

 

As Seungcheol rushes up the stairs, an unwelcoming scent assaults his nostrils. He pauses in the stairwell as the air becomes thick and saturated with the smell of another Alpha.

An _aroused_ alpha.

Jihoon’s scent is lingering there too, a relatively weaker undertone, but it’s still overwhelmingly obvious.

He flexes the fingers of his free hand as he turns the key in the lock, trying to disperse the useless anxiety trying to twist the sharp edge of his awareness.

He’s expecting the worst, but he’s not prepared for the sight that greets him when he walks into the living room.

Mingyu groaning and panting, sprawled out on the couch. And straddling his crotch—a bag of frozen peas.

Seungcheol drops his duffel on the floor. “What the fuck! Mingyu—what are you doing here? What happened?”

“Jihoon—in heat.” Mingyu finally says, in tones of agony.

Seungcheol feels his heart start to pound, a tattooing beat of possessiveness “You better not have touched him.” He bites out, grabbing Mingyu by the front of his shirt and hauling him forward.

There’s a reason why Alphas tend not to room together with an Omega in heat in their midst. Seungcheol can feel the need for violence burn under his own skin in response to the pheromones Mingyu’s body is pumping out. Instinctive desire to chase him from his territory, or, better yet, dispatch him before he becomes more of a threat.

If he so much as  _looks_  at Jihoon again, he'd tear him limb from limb. Or try to.

Mingyu gulps, has the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry. I did try. He smelt really nice and I couldn’t help myself. But—he kneed me in the balls.” Mingyu makes a very small, very pained sound. “ _Twice_. He’s really scary Hyung.”

Seungcheol doesn’t realise he’s grinning until Mingyu points it out. “That’s not nice—don’t smile at my suffering.”

Despite everything, Seungcheol laughs and releases Mingyu. He can’t help how happy it makes him to know that even in the fog of heat, Jihoon refused another Alpha’s advances, hadn’t allowed another close enough to even hope to mark him. The air is still thick with arousal, but Jihoon smells safe. Jihoon’s safe. 

He makes himself look away from direct eye-to-eye contact, and curbs the instinct to tackle Mingyu. It'd be overkill anyway. “Where is he?”

“Your room.” Mingyu hisses, lifting the ice pack.

“Well—I’m going in there now. I suggest you stay over at Wonwoo’s. If you even think about interfering-“

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.” Mingyu interrupts quickly, adjusting the frozen peas on his crotch. “Out of commission for the foreseeable future.”

* * *

 

The second Seungcheol steps inside his room and shuts the door behind him, Jihoon's scent hits him like a punch in the face and he very nearly staggers backwards.

The room is sweltering and reeks of Jihoon's sweet, citrusy pheromones. Seungcheol almost trips over Jihoon’s overturned backpack in the middle of the room.

From the corner of his eye, Seungcheol sees something move and he wheels around, fully prepared for a confrontation when he sees Jihoon on his hands and knees beside the bed. His arms are shaking, barely supporting him, and he can feel Jihoon’s eyes on him, watching and blank.

When Seungcheol moves to help him to his feet, Jihoon practically hisses and pulls away from him. "Don't…don't…" he moans miserably. He looks so distressed, Seungcheol is immediately gripped by the desire to gentle him. 

Seungcheol has the sense to wait until he's done hissing before setting a hand on his shoulder, “Hey baby.” Seungcheol purrs, but Jihoon shrugs violently away from it just the same.

 _He probably thinks I’m Mingyu_ —Seungcheol realises as he tries to reach for the Omega again.

“Jihoonie—puddin—it’s me.” He whispers, pulling his jacket off and tossing it in Jihoon’s direction. The Omega eyes it suspiciously, then cautiously leans down to sniff it. Almost instantly Jihoon’s rubbing his entire body against the jacket, a soft moan escaping his lips. “Cheol.”

Jihoon reaches for him, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed. He looks as though he's just realized it’s Seungcheol in his room and not someone else — someone dangerous.

Seungcheol feels a pulse of regret for keeping his beautiful Omega waiting for so long that he’s been reduced to this almost feral state.

He pulls Jihoon up and lays him on the bed, stripping him down quickly; time is of the essence—neither of them have the patience to wait for Seungcheol to strip Jihoon off with the lingering attention and deliberation he deserves.

He strips his own clothes off in record time and climbs on top of Jihoon, pinning him against the mattress so he can smooth his hand across the Omega's brow and push damp strands of hair off his forehead. "Shh, I've got you," he whispers and leans down to kiss Jihoon’s brow.

When he lifts his head back up—Jihoon slaps him.

“Hey!” Seungcheol gasps, reeling back. “What the—it’s me Jihoonie. It’s me, Seungcheol.”

Jihoon puffs through his nose and scowls at him. For Jihoon this is like a full conversation.

“What was that for?” Seungcheol asks, rubbing his cheek.

“That’s for keeping me waiting you prick!”

Seungcheol bites his lower lip to keep from chuckling in amusement. Even in heat, Jihoon is an adorable bubble of rage.

Many Alphas most value an Omega who is as shy and submissive as possible, completely subservient to their Alpha, avoiding direct eye contact. Seungcheol has always secretly found it a bit of a turnoff, frankly. He didn’t want someone who completely folded to his will every time with no resistance, but unfortunately such was the status quo.

“Shhh—no, please baby. Don’t be mad with me. I tried to get here as fast as I could.” Seungcheol says softly, nuzzling up the side of Jihoon’s throat to bite gently at his ear.

“Not fast enough. I soaked through my boxers—and your sheets are a mess too. Serves you right.” Jihoon grumbles, but tilts his head back to offer his throat anyway, evidently wanting the skin-to-skin contact. Seungcheol can’t help grinning at Jihoon’s mildly grumpy acceptance of his ‘base Omega urges’ winning out over his need to stay angry with him.

Seungcheol closes the space between them completely to kiss him. Jihoon is rage melting to passion against him, too startled by Seungcheol's kiss to protest the slick of tongue past surprised lips.

Seungcheol's hands want to explore, but he holds them steady. One slips to Jihoon's jaw, coaxing him to an angle that allows for deeper, better, more as his thumb shifts along his Omega's cheekbone. The other settles at the small of Jihoon's back, holding him close and possessive.

He nearly breaks the kiss to growl in victory when Jihoon's hands grab at his hair and Jihoon's tongue finally slides against his own. The intensity of Jihoon’s heat burning him alive, Jihoon's body pressing in hot and perfect, and Seungcheol groans into his Omega's mouth.

He draws back to lick down Jihoon’s throat.

“I saw Mingyu outside. He’s got a bag of frozen peas on his crotch.” Seungcheol chuckles, biting at the smooth muscle of Jihoon’s neck. Jihoon’s pulse jumps under his tongue and he laps harder at it, like the taste of his skin might be able to help him find some calm.

Jihoon’s scowls at the memory, but the corner of his mouth twitches up just a fraction.

“He said you kneed him in the balls when he tried to touch you.” Seungcheol whispers reverently. He nuzzles a line under Jihoon’s jaw. “That makes me really happy.”

“Cheol.” Jihoon says, cupping his jaw and forcing his head up. “Do you actually think I’d let anyone else touch me?”

Seungcheol huffs quietly. He knows Jihoon wouldn’t but that doesn’t change the fact he can fucking  _smell_  Mingyu on him, far more obnoxious than the softer smell of Jun under it. He wants to fuck the offending scents off Jihoon, paint him in his come and rub against every inch of him until the only things left are both of them.

“Only I get to touch you, yeah? Only me.” Seungcheol growls, shifting on the bed up behind Jihoon, settling his hands on his narrow hips.

“Maybe I’ll find somebody else—since you like talking so much and delaying all the fucking.”

Seungcheol growls. He digs his fingers into Jihoon’s hips, pulling him back against his chest and buries his face in the damp hair just behind his ear. “Don’t taunt me Jihoon,” he says, fitting his knee between Jihoon’s legs and forcing them apart. “I’m the only one you let fuck you, don’t make me prove it.”

“I might not let you this time, if you keep me waiting.” Jihoon says with all the authority he can muster despite squirming and reaching back to move Seungcheol’s hand away from his hip, down to his ass.

There’s nothing that can stop Seungcheol obliging him there.

As Jihoon spreads his knees further apart, Seungcheol catches a glimpse of how slick he is, ready and desperate to be filled. He reaches between Jihoon's thighs and smears his fingers through the trail of slick there briefly, before pushing two fingers against Jihoon’s entrance. They sink in easily.

Jihoon cries out and throws his head back, his hips rolling so he can thrust back against Seungcheol’s hand eagerly.

Seungcheol slides a third finger in to spread Jihoon wide, but it’s a pale imitation of what he really needs. “I’m sorry baby, Sorry I kept you waiting. I’m here now. I just want to make you feel good.”

Jihoon arches back harder onto Seungcheol’s fingers, grinding against his thigh. “Ahh—Cheol. More, please, Seungcheol, I can’t.”

Seungcheol’s growl swallows most of Jihoon’s sob as he eases the fourth finger in, and he slides his other hand up to slip two fingers over Jihoon’s trembling lower lip into his mouth. “Is that better?” he murmurs when Jihoon sucks them, calming a little. “You just want to be full of me, don’t you? Everything, all at once.”

Jihoon moans around his fingers and Seungcheol pushes them deeper, fighting the primal urge to just push his cock in alongside his fingers. The beautiful thing is he _knows_ Jihoon could take it, would fucking beg for it. He knows exactly how well they fit together.

Seungcheol turns his hand and slides his thumb inside him, pressing down towards his belly and getting a satisfying cry in return. “Look at you—so loose and open for me.” he says, shifting closer to press his cock between Jihoon’s thighs.

He grins and rubs the crown of his shaft against the slick curve of Jihoon’s ass, pumping his fingers faster. It’s always so intense when Jihoon is like this, better, hotter; which is saying something considering how good the sex usually is. But his heat just drives everything to the very edge, and Seungcheol wants to fuck him and knot him and breed him so badly the desperation almost hurts.

“Nobody else gets to touch you because you’re mine,” he says, twisting his fingers and drawing a long, muffled moan from Jihoon. “And it goes both ways Hoonie, I’m yours too.”

Jihoon nods, little sounds of agreement vibrating through Seungcheol’s fingers and going straight to his cock.

“Up,” he says, letting Jihoon go. “Up on your hands and knees.”

There are few things Seungcheol likes better than the slope of Jihoon’s back when he’s kneeling down waiting to be fucked. It’s the hottest thing ever when Jihoon offers himself up like this, when he smells like sex and desperation and looks like the best thing Seungcheol has ever touched in his life.

With one hand clamped around Jihoon’s hip, Seungcheol uses the other to line himself and rub his cock head firmly against Jihoon’s hole a few times, slipping freely through Jihoon’s wetness. A desperate little mewl escapes Jihoon’s lips

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss between his shoulder blades as he runs his hand up higher to squeeze Jihoon’s balls.

“Fuck me then,” Jihoon says, twisting his hands in the blankets. “Fuck, fuck, breed me. I want—Seungcheol, _please_.”

It hurts to hear Jihoon beg and Seungcheol drapes himself over Jihoon’s back, enveloping Jihoon with his bulk, reaching around to stroke Jihoon’s chest and stomach, nuzzling the back of his shoulder, mouth warm and cock hard, nudging in between Jihoon’s cheeks.  

Jihoon thrashes under him. “Need it please.” he sobs, bucking his hips and arching his neck.

Seungcheol is hit with the sudden urge to claim him, there and then, to sink his teeth into that perfect spot on his neck and make Jihoon _his_ officially. He can barely even  _think_  beyond the smell of his Omega filling him up and making him hard and wanting, and he needs to mark him somehow.

Except... of course he won't. After all, of all the stupid stereotypes, if there's one Seungcheol half-heartedly subscribes to it's the myth of Alphas having no self-control.

He’s pretty sure Jihoon wouldn’t appreciate being claimed without at least consulting him first.

But he needs to do _something_.

So he grabs Jihoon’s hips and bites down on the nape of Jihoon’s neck instead, hard, growling against his skin.

Jihoon whimpers, but it’s a soft, submissive sound that fills Seungcheol with an entirely different kind of warmth. He sinks his teeth a little deeper, tasting Jihoon’s sweat and trying to calm down.

The bite mark isn’t where it needs to be, but it’s a definite step toward exclusivity: the Alpha staking a claim, a public sign to others, more than just smelling like sex.

Jihoon takes it like the perfect Omega he is, dipping his head lower and spreading his legs wider. He’s quiet and still for the first time, but his body is screaming  _I submit, mount me now_  even louder than before.

“Cheol,” he says, finally, breaking the stillness of the moment. “We can talk about this later. Just give me your cock, please.”

Slowly, Seungcheol lets go of the nape of his neck. “Sorry. I just—I just get so excited around you. I’ve never felt this way before, I had to do something.”

“It’s okay. Me too.” He tilts his hips, rocking back against Seungcheol’s cock, and the friction is enough to make up his mind.

“We’ll talk later.” Seungcheol echoes, stroking his cock once and rubbing the tip against the wet heat of Jihoon’s skin.

“Hmm—yeah,” Jihoon says, arching graceful and catlike.

Seungcheol holds himself firm and presses inside. The sob that wracks Jihoon’s body is part pleasure, part relief. Seungcheol swallows and pushes in an inch before stopping, and Jihoon goes wild.

“Oh no, no, don’t stop, please don’t stop, fuck me, please fuck me please.”

“You’re tighter than before, you feel different—how is..” he trails off, gripping Jihoon’s hips to stop him hurting himself with the force of his writhing.

“Cause I’m fertile.” Jihoon blurts out, frustrated, shoulders slumping. “That’s why I went into heat early. I’m—one hundred percent fertile now.”  He pants, then looks at Seungcheol over his shoulder. “Don’t worry—you’re still on suppressants so I can’t— _yanno_.”

Seungcheol doesn’t hear anything beyond the word ‘ _fertile’_.

It’s like his brain zooms in on the word and freezes. He becomes detached from conscious thought, can only obey his body’s imperative to plant his seed, is overwhelmed by the desire to embrace Jihoon in a hold strong enough to hold him, keep him, protect him.

He drives in hard, licking along Jihoon’s shoulder and biting down again hard enough to taste blood.

“Ahh—Cheollie.” ’Jihoon shoves himself back, hard enough to take Seungcheol to the hilt.

Seungcheol fucks him hard and fast, grunting angrily, yanking hard on Jihoon’s body to meet his thrusts, and Jihoon sobs, grateful, shoving himself back artlessly, mindlessly taking what his body craves.

“Fuck, Jihoon,” Seungcheol groans, leaning back down over the muscular curve of his spine to bite at the nape of his neck again. “You’re perfect. All mine.”

The sound Jihoon makes is happy rather than pained, and Seungcheol fucks into him harder, giving him exactly what he needs. It’s so easy to get lost in the rhythm of it, Jihoon’s tight clenching heat taking him in like he was fucking made for it. Seungcheol forces Jihoon lower, clinging to the nape of his neck with his teeth and growling on every thrust in.

“Cheol—Cheol. I’m yours, just yours.” Jihoon whispers assurance, matching Seungcheol’s pace, those raw scraps of words hitting Seungcheol right in the gut.

He hauls Jihoon up, pushing into him, moving harsh and careless. The pitch of Jihoon's breaths is rising, and he's so open for Seungcheol, so wet and welcoming, made for this.

“Fertile,” Seungcheol repeats, wrapping one arm under Jihoon, splaying his hand over his belly.

He wonders how many times he will have to knot his Omega before the flat plane of his stomach gives way to a pregnant roundness.

Guess he’ll just have to find out. Guess he has no choice but to breed him again and again till nobody will be able to look at him and not know that he’s claimed.

Jihoon goes rigid in his arms. “Oh god, _Seungcheol_. You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol doesn’t answer, he reaches around and takes hold of Jihoon’s cock. It takes barely a stroke before Jihoon’s come is rushing into Seungcheol’s cupped hand, rapid breathing making his keening pulse out in time with Seungcheol’s driving thrusts.

Jihoon comes a second time as Seungcheol fucks him hard across the bed, continuously dragging the Omega back towards him when his body jerks forward. Finally, with one more lunge, Seungcheol buries himself inside Jihoon and holds him still as his cock throbs and swells, tying them together.

“Yess—ahhh—fill me— _hnnaa_.” Jihoon moans, thighs trembling as he’s stretched tight around Seungcheol’s cock.

Seungcheol whines at the unbearably tight grip around his dick, and with a final glance down at Jihoon’s form, so willing beneath him, he comes in a blinding rush, shoving his cock as far in as it would go and pulsing hot gushes into Jihoon’s waiting body.

“Yeah,” Jihoon sobs. “Fuck, yeah, feels so good, wet, yeah.”

Seungcheol rubs Jihoon’s stomach slowly and pushes in a little deeper, feeling the clench and quiver of Jihoon’s muscles under his hand. “Feel good?”

“‘s good,” Jihoon says, resting his head on his forearms and shifting his hips, testing the sensation of the knot spreading him open. “Really good. Always feel good with you Cheollie.”

He relaxes down even more, and it takes Seungcheol a second to get them both into a more comfortable position, tucked tight against Jihoon’s back with a knee between his legs and one hand still on his belly.

Jihoon’s quiet now, letting his head loll back against Seungcheol’s shoulder.

“You’re a hundred percent fertile now?” Seungcheol asks, nuzzling his hair and stroking down low on his belly where his skin is still twitching and hot.

“Yes, Cheol. **But** if you’d stop acting like an Alpha for just a second, you’d realise it makes no difference when you’re on suppressants.” He snaps, tugging at the knot between them and sending a fresh burst of pleasure up Seungcheol’s spine before settling. “Idiot.”

“Fertile,” Seungcheol echoes, still not listening.

He kisses the edge of Jihoon’s jaw and curls his fingers just beneath his belly button. He thinks, maybe he’s filled Jihoon with more than just his cock and some come tonight, and rush of possessiveness thunders through him.

* * *

 

Jihoon’s voice has been reduced to a hoarse mewl by the 12th round. Or was it the 15th?

Seungcheol’s not really keeping track—too busy focused on filling his Omega. Usually they knot every third or fourth time, but Seungcheol has knotted him each subsequent time since they started.

He just can’t shift the imperative drive to breed Jihoon full.

Something tells him he’s being stupid. It’s probably Jihoon.

“You’re so stupid.” Jihoon rasps, squirming as Seungcheol’s knot slips out.

Seungcheol turns him over carefully, pushes Jihoon’s legs, spreading them just to the edge of Jihoon’s comfort, holding his open to make him feel on display.

The insides of his thighs are coated in his own slick and Seungcheol’s cum, and all the more lovelier for it. Jihoon arches easily against him, Seungcheol's hand dropping naturally to rub small circles just over the sweet-slight curve to that usually flat stomach.

“But, you’re gonna keep trying—aren’t you?” Jihoon adds, voice all slow mockery and amusement.

Seungcheol hasn’t the foggiest idea what he’s talking about. He’s just trying to do his job.

Jihoon giggles in reaction to whatever Seungcheol's face is doing. Which is apparently something hilarious. Mostly he’s just confused.

Even if he did want to speak, Seungcheol would have no words for it. Words are a strange, foreign concept that Seungcheol can't make sense of anymore. There's nothing in the universe but himself and his Omega and his need to breed him again very soon. Everything else is  _there_ , but muted and fuzzy, inaccessible, all beyond his reach no matter how he pushes.

“Hoon.” Seungcheol whispers, reassuring him, dragging his nails deftly up the centre of Jihoon's torso just to feel him tremble. Ducking to kiss the slick tip of his cock, liking the way Jihoon's exposed body stretches and tenses and clenches for him, the way the arch of his stomach feels under his hand.

Seungcheol shifts, and bends to press his lips to Jihoon’s exposed neck, that perfect, smooth skin. Jihoon does has such have such a long, elegant neck. So _tempting_. His scent is strongest here, enticing Seungcheol to blend and cover it with his own.

Which he proceeds to do.

He’d shaved that morning, but his face does have a touch of short stubble, and he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy scraping it lightly along Jihoon’s skin, making it pink and tender-looking. He gets all the skin he can access, up to under Jihoon’s ear to down at his collarbone, turning him over to cover both sides with his pheromones. Finally, with a pleased little growl, he nips at Jihoon’s skin, brief but firm, and feels the Omega moan and jump.

Seungcheol pushes himself up on one arm to survey his handiwork, and looks Jihoon in the face. Jihoon’s ears are red, colour high in his cheeks, and his pupils are enlarged; he seems to have sweat on his brow.

He blinks at Seungcheol, swallows, and licks his apparently dry lips, before croaking, “I think—I need you to knot me again.”

It's not Seungcheol's intention to emit an excited whine, but his intentions don't seem to have much influence over what he actually  _does_  recently.

 

* * *

 

Whatever time it is, it's quiet. The first thing Seungcheol listens for on waking is the sound of breathing. In the aftermath of heat, his senses still ringing high, he can catch not only Jihoon's soft, purring almost-snores but the sounds of traffic in the streets below.

Only it's not quite the aftermath yet; Jihoon’s skin is on fire and his scent is gorgeously ripe.

 _One hundred percent fucking fertile_ —Seungcheol reminds himself.

Warmth pools in the base of Seungcheol' spine and his thoughts grow fuzzy again, comfortable with wisps of sleep softening their edges, blurring into the simple concepts of  _mate_  and  _fuck_  and  _pups_.

A rational part of his mind is trying to tell him he’s on suppressants and he can’t achieve number three just yet... or can he? The Alpha in him says it’s perfectly acceptable for him to keep trying though!

Jihoon's back is turned to him. Seungcheol rolls on his side and rubs his face between Jihoon's shoulder blades, licking at the raised bumps of his spine. Jihoon smells so  _good_ , skin warm and enticing, and Seungcheol can't help biting down on the juncture of his shoulder and neck—just a few inches south from where he really wants to. Gently, or at least he tries. He might fail: Jihoon comes awake with a grumble, “You dick.” twitching under Seungcheol' hold for a moment before settling again.

Really, Seungcheol should let him sleep, but he can't bear to let go. He pushes Jihoon down into the bed, nuzzling at the nape of his neck, filling his mouth with Jihoon's taste and scent, already invitingly blended with Seungcheol' own musk.

For a short time – though Seungcheol' perception may be skewed on that account – Jihoon abides. Gradually Seungcheol presses closer, until he's climbing on top of Jihoon, rubbing against him. Feeling Jihoon start to open up under him, Seungcheol shifts, lets the first hints of wetness slick his way.

He's just settling nicely into a rhythm when Jihoon's sharp elbow prods him in the ribs. “I can’t believe you’re still trying, it’s like tunnel vision for you or something.”

Seungcheol blinks sleep and heat away, “Fertile.” He mumbles and Jihoon sighs into the pillow.

“Yes, yes. So you keep repeating. I’m fertile and you’ve been reduced to a lumbering idiot over it. Honestly Seungcheol I should be so mad about this but for some fucking insane reason I can’t.”

Seungcheol grows lax while Jihoon positions them more to his liking, on their sides. Then, he can slide into Jihoon in one smooth stroke.

And Jihoon is so, so sweet, gorgeously tight and wet for him again, moving back against Seungcheol in a natural rhythm all their own. Seungcheol pushes his face against Jihoon's hot skin, inhaling his sweat and the dizzying scent of his arousal. Seungcheol  _wants_ , needs to touch Jihoon and taste him and  _have_  him, and Jihoon gives him everything, greedily fucking himself back on Seungcheol until he comes with a muffled sob.

Seungcheol still needs more. His hands settle over Jihoon's hips, bringing him close, grinding deep rather than thrusting. Tight, tight,  _good_ , and he comes with his teeth in Jihoon's shoulder and his cock flaring, filling Jihoon up, firm and steady.

By the time Seungcheol has caught his breath, Jihoon's breathing slows down back into the cadence of sleep. Seungcheol pushes up, plants a kiss on Jihoon's temple, and leaves wakefulness behind before they unknot.

 

* * *

 

Jihoon wakes up feeling better than he has in ages —stretched out in Seungcheol’s soft bed, his reassuring Alpha pheromones flooding Jihoon’s senses, making him feel soothed and safe.

He notes that the sheets have been changed—which was probably necessary considering Seungcheol knotted him every single time they fucked.

His heat is still rumbling beneath his skin, and he’ll probably need a few more rounds before Seungcheol is off the hook.

Speaking of which…

Seungcheol is lurking. Lurking at the foot of the bed—like a big, guilty— _teddy bear_. That might not make sense, but it’s a astonishingly fitting description for Seungcheol. His brow is creased in concern, in _apology_.

What does he have to castigate himself over?

Jihoon can think of a few reasons, all of which Jihoon is willing to forgive at this point, but he's not expecting Seungcheol to slump his shoulders and scuff a toe in the carpet like he's actually  _worried_  about something.

“Out with it.” Jihoon snips.

“Okay, so I realise I may have gotten a little distracted the day before and I’m sorry.” Seungcheol says vaguely, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

Jihoon sits up, propping his back against the headboard, and folds his arms across his bare chest. He levels his gaze on the Alpha, “You were whispering ‘fertile’ and ‘babies’ in your sleep.” Jihoon says, letting his voice convey how unimpressed he is with Seungcheol’s temporary descent into breeding frenzy.

Seungcheol’s face burns hotter. He walks to the side of the bed and kneels so he can lay his hands across Jihoon's.

“Yes. Okay, but you can’t just throw words like one hundred percent fertile around and not expect me to go full blown Alpha. I know it’s way too early to be thinking about that kinda stuff now,-“

“ _Far_ too early Seungcheol. I’m _nineteen_ , you’re just twenty-one.” Jihoon interjects and Seungcheol flinches at his sharp tone.

Jihoon sighs and turns his palms so their fingers can lace, and he squeezes the Alpha's hands gently. “Not to mention, we’ve only been officially dating a few months.” He adds softly.  

“I know, I know I just—,” Seungcheol pauses, rubs a tired hand down his face, sighing. “I’ve wanted you from the minute I met you and I guess I get excited that we’re together now and I can finally start thinking about these things.”

Jihoon can't help the smirk that grips his lips.

It’s fucking hard to bear a grudge when somebody wants _everything_ with you.

He can barely manage to muster the indignation to be irritated at the manipulation of nature. Yes, he is an Omega and breeding is his ‘purpose’, but the lack of control he would have over his life would be difficult to accept. He’s fought so hard to get any kind of control in the first place.

Had somebody even _hinted_ at getting him pregnant a year ago—he would have castrated them. But as it is with Seungcheol, Seungcheol the softest Alpha he knows, who has carried him through his heats, is constantly at his beck and call, has knotted Jihoon more times than he can remember and almost _claimed_ him last night—he finds he doesn’t _actually_ mind the idea.

_What the fuck?_

Not that he's seriously entertaining those ideas now, because he isn't. Not really. Not anywhere but the secret, idle recesses of his mind, and that doesn't count unless he says so.

He can only wish he still has _some_ objections; not that Seungcheol has to know anything about that – he tends to get annoyingly cocky if Jihoon lets him have too many wins.

Though...Jihoon is almost willing to let him have this one.

 _Almost_.

“Go make me a sandwich.” He demands.

Seungcheol laughs suddenly and smiles—dimples and all. “Sir—yes—sir.” He salutes, jumping to his feet.

“Wait—I need to instruct you how to make it. I’m very specific about my sandwiches.” Jihoon says waspishly.

“Don’t worry, I know how you like it.” Seungcheol tells him as he leaves, a touch of assured smugness in his voice.

The sandwich, when it arrives, is exactly how he likes it.

Odd.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I was planning a chapter before this...but as I wrote and planned it....I realised it wouldn't make sense in part unless I put this first. Also...I'm trying to add length to the relationship :)  
> 2) Also...I needed more smut.  
> 3) LOLOLOL  
> 4) Did you think something was going to happen to Jihoon and Mingyu? XD Yeah...no...I only ship Jicheol folks.  
> 5) I love soft Alpha Seungcheol who suddenly gets tunnel vision and surrenders to baser instincts...he's still soft...but he just can't help himself.  
> 6) Hope you enjoy. Feedback always appreciated.


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